Stating the Obvious
by Ammeh
Summary: Hyoutei goes out for karaoke, but Atobe really just wants to molest Jiroh. [Atoji, too much Oshigaku to be called a side pairing, a bit of ToriShishi Shishitori]


**Author's Notes:** Yet _another_ crack pairing generator thing. Atobe/Jirou, microphone. This fic was also supposed to be Atoji but ended up having a whole bunch of Oshigaku. My love for Hyoutei's team dynamic is probably why I can't seem to write just one or two members without mentioning the others. If Seigaku's team dynamic was as strong as Hyoutei's, that would probably happen when I wrote Seigaku, too. I think Hyoutei's is the Naughty Pair's fault. Not that I don't adore the Golden Pair, but they just don't lend themselves to witty banter like the Naughty Pair. And I do love the witty banter.

This fic appears to change viewpoints a lot, but it's really just a neutral 3rd person viewpoint with a lot of random peeks into people's heads. I switch between calling Gakuto "Gakuto" and "Mukahi" in this fic, because while most of his teammates would probably call him Mukahi, the fandom almost always refers to him as "Gakuto." I called him "Mukahi" whenever I could, but when I was writing his viewpoint, it just sounded weird not to call him "Gakuto."

Beta-ed by Fatedtofall.

**Disclaimer:** No son los míos.

* * *

Shishido raised his eyebrows at the lavish building in front of him, snorting slightly. Atobe glanced over, smirking at his disgruntled face.

"Whatever were you expecting when I promised to take the team out for karaoke?"

Shishido rolled his eyes. He should've known. "I dunno, maybe…_a karaoke place?_"

"This _is_ a karaoke place, merely a higher-class one than I'm sure you're used to."

Shishido decided not to answer that, instead paying attention to Choutarou's comforting hand on his shoulder, and ignoring Mukahi's snickers.

"I'm sure we'll like it, Shishido-san. Thank you for treating us, buchou!"

"Neh, Atobe! How 'private' are the private rooms here?"

"Really, Mukahi. Can't you follow Ootori's example and be more respectful to your buchou?"

"You let Jiroh call you Atobe, don't you?

"That's because…he…does it better than you do!"

"Well if that's all, practice makes perfect, right Atobe? Atobe! Atobe! Atobe! Keigo!"

Atobe spun around and glared at Gakuto. Gakuto recognized the look in his eyes…it was the look he got after Insight, when he was plotting the best way to cripple his opponent. "_What_ did you just call me?"

Gakuto gulped. "Ah…buchou-sama?"

Atobe's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "I _thought_ so. Carry on."

Gakuto clasped onto Oshitari, pulling his head down. "Yuushi! Help me erase the taste of those foul words from my lips!"

Oshitari looked down, amused. "You're getting more eloquent."

"Yes, I thought you'd like i—nn! _Mmmm…_Ah! Yuushi, that—!"

"Would you two at _least_ wait until we're _in the damn building?_" Shishido snarled, though the effect was lessened by the fact he was shielding his eyes by burying his face in Ootori's neck.

"Look who's talking. The two of you are sappier than Yuushi's girly books."

"And just what is wrong with my books?"

"Nothing, muffin."

"…Did you just call me 'muffin'?"

"…Studmuffin?"

"That's…_slightly_ less disturbing."

Atobe chose to ignore his teammates, instead gesturing to Kabaji to push open the door. Kabaji did so, dumping Jiroh unceremoniously from his position draped over Kabaji's shoulder. Jiroh sat up and blinked, stretching.

"Are we there yet?"

Atobe wasn't one to answer stupid questions, so he simply took Jiroh by the hand—er, wrist, and pulled him inside, the rest of the team following. Atobe walked up to the front desk.

"Reservation for Atobe."

The woman at the desk ran her finger down a list. "Ah, yes. Right this way, sir." She led them to an elaborately carved door, and hung a small sign reading "Atobe, Party of 8" on it. "Go right on in, sir."

Atobe stepped back as Kabaji opened the door, noting that Shishido looked as if he was about to throw up. Mukahi looked closer to _cracking_ up. Atobe ignored them both, stepping inside the room. Jiroh ran over to the karaoke machine, which appeared to be part of the wall, and examined the plaque next to it.

"It says we need to get CDs at the front desk!" he proclaimed.

Atobe nodded. "Very well. Oshitari, please do so."

Kabaji looked vaguely confused. "Usu?"

"I do not trust your musical taste, Kabaji."

"Usu."

Gakuto ran after Oshitari. "Wait for me, Yuushi!"

"…I don't trust Mukahi's either, but that seems to be out of my control."

Oshitari and Gakuto returned a few minutes later, Gakuto gleefully clutching a disc. Atobe took it, glancing at the label.

"Duets? Why duets?"

Gakuto shrugged. "It's duets? I didn't look at it, I just asked for the disc with the dirtiest song they had, and she gave me that one."

Atobe put the CD in, a long-suffering look on his face. Shishido and Ootori were already poring over the track listing.

"Track 3!" Ootori proclaimed, as if he expected Atobe to switch it to the correct number. Atobe raised an eyebrow and gestured to Kabaji. Come to think of it, he should have had Kabaji put in the CD in the first place. He was slipping.

Shishido and Ootori each took a microphone, and proceeded to perform an incredibly sappy song, complete with drippingly tender looks back and forth. Mukahi looked close to gagging.

Immediately after Ootori and Shishido finished, Mukahi seized the microphone, and began a song with Oshitari that was, as promised, very dirty. _Very_ dirty. Shishido looked close to gagging.

Hiyoshi begrudgingly preformed a duet with Kabaji. He actually had a pretty nice voice, but Kabaji's incredibly deep backup singing almost completely overpowered it. While unfortunate, this was not particularly offensive to anyone, and so the gagging trend appeared to have stopped.

Atobe stepped up, motioning Kabaji to wake Jiroh, who had drifted off at some point during the last song. Jiroh absently picked up a microphone, but Atobe took it out of his hand, gesturing instead to the one he held.

"A _proper_ duet is preformed with a shared microphone," he stated.

Most of the others were pretty sure he had just made that up to sound cultured, but nobody said anything. Atobe and Jiroh began a rather fast-paced song that the rest of the team was rather surprised Jiroh could keep up with. Then again, if it was a slow song, he probably would have fallen asleep in the middle. More surprising was the fact that Atobe's voice fit such an upbeat song so well; he seemed the type to sound out of place.

As the song entered a slower part, Atobe leaned closer to the microphone, to discover Jiroh had done so as well. He tensed slightly as he realized that he hadn't taken into account the distracting effect of such proximity to Jiroh's mouth. Jiroh didn't seem to have noticed, but he met Atobe's eyes as Atobe subconsciously moved even closer to the mic. Jiroh slid his head closer to Atobe's, leaning into the microphone still more.

Atobe's lips were almost brushing the mic, and he could feel Jiroh's warm breath next to his mouth. Atobe could hear the sound quality go down as he began singing directly against the mic, but he was really too distracted by Jiroh to react. Too distracted, in fact, to notice Mukahi striding up to the tiny stage and grabbing the abandoned second microphone.

"Jiroh and Atobe," he announced slowly, flicking the microphone up to max volume. "If you want to make out, please just do so, and stop molesting the innocent third party."

Mukahi's advice was usually pretty bad (and often intended solely to make people uncomfortable), but as Atobe dropped the microphone to the thickly carpeted floor, he decided that, just this once, Mukahi might actually have a point.


End file.
